


War of Attrition

by Katflap (Batman_in_Lingerie)



Series: Devils [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: BDSM, Blindfolds, Bondage, Dirty Talk, Dominant Clark Kent, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Restraints, Rough Sex, Slight OOC, Submissive Bruce Wayne, Under-negotiated Kink, Vibrators, assholes in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:13:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24542149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batman_in_Lingerie/pseuds/Katflap
Summary: Clark sets out to teach Bruce a lesson; namely, that karma is a bitch.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne
Series: Devils [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1476668
Comments: 10
Kudos: 164





	War of Attrition

**Author's Note:**

> The garbage boys are back! 
> 
> I've been sitting on this for a little while now, as I was thinking 'do I want to post this?' and I gotta be honest I was on the fence about it. Then I remembered how many of y'all enjoy Bruce and Clark being garbage gremlins and I was like, 'yeah, fuck it. Let's do it.'
> 
> As mentioned, these versions of Bruce and Clark are different than their canonical counterparts, so if you are a stickler for that, this is not the fic for you.
> 
> If however you are a fan of Bruce and Clark being snarky gremlins, then welcome aboard the trash fire train.

Clark for the most part, was able to put his week of torment behind him.

It was difficult at first. Some mornings he would wake, look down at himself, and should morning wood be present, the Pavlovian urge to smoother it in ice water would hit him, only to eventually relinquish its hold once he’d remember that it was no longer a necessity. As the weeks ticked by, he was able to wake up and not feel a stab of panic at the idea of going without self gratification. Then before he knew it, the weeks had turned into months, and he was now able to go back to some semblance of his normal routine.

Yes, in fact most aspects of his and Bruce’s relationship returned to their version of ‘normal’. The only difference being that Bruce was less obtuse about his wants, and should the need arise, he was inclined to demand being thrown across the room and railed, rather than subject Clark to needless torment to achieve it.

It didn’t stop him from being a little shit half the time, but it was something at least. 

That being said, there was an odd sense of nostalgia beginning to grow around that week that Clark could scarcely believe happened so long ago. The fact of the matter was, aside from the awful blue balling, Clark rather liked the teasing, the games, and of course the eventual unbridled fucking. He would never tell Bruce as much though, promises of honesty be damned. The man already had enough of an ego.

So it was as he sat and reminisced about that week, that Clark began to hatch a plan. He was no strategist, nor was he very good at hiding things from Bruce, but the plan he had in mind was something that even he felt he could confidently achieve, and should all go well, would be his finest moment.

It required a lot of preparation before he could even consider trying it, and thankfully, Clark was growing rather good at being patient. Being with Bruce, he had to be. 

The first step was to create a situation where in he and Bruce didn’t see each other for a while. That was the easy part considering it was fairly standard in their line of work, both normal and super. He contemplated a business trip of some sorts, but when you’re able to fly across the world in the blink of an eye, he knew that wouldn’t cut it. 

No, he needed to go off world for this to work. Sadly, in recent months it had become more of a rarity for that to happen and despite his incredible patience, it was wearing thin as the anticipation of what he was planning began to weigh heavy on his mind. Perhaps that was why, when Hal approached and mentioned needing backup with some Lantern business, that Clark was the first one to volunteer.

Bruce wasn’t there thankfully. If he had been, Clark was well aware his eagerness would have pinged on his ‘bullshit detection radar’. Thankfully, Hal wasn’t one to talk to Bruce without someone actively forcing him to do so, and therefore it was up to Clark to inform Bruce of his upcoming departure; sans any mention of the word ‘volunteer.’

After that was out of the way, he went about the next steps. Tim and Damian. Whilst it was one of Bruce’s more conniving moves to send the boys to the farm for the week, Clark couldn’t deny the merits of it, so sought to do the same. One conversation with his mother later, Tim was out of the picture, and another with Dick, Damian was as well. They'd be away on the week of Clark’s approximate return, and as far as Bruce was concerned, it was purely a coincidence.

The next step was less fun, in fact it was the one Clark was dreading the most, due to the fact it impacted himself as well as Bruce, but he knew it was necessary for what he as planning to work. So with gritted teeth, he persevered. 

Clark was becoming well versed it want Bruce liked in bed, which was doing wonders for their sex life, as well as having the unintended bonus of helping him immensely with what he intended on this particular evening of love making. 

The sex they had before his departure could barely be considered fulfilling for anyone present. It was somewhat impressive in its banality, though there was an obvious sting that came from that, made worse for Bruce’s apparent acceptance of the below par sex, as though he wasn’t surprised it had occurred and if anything wondered how it hadn’t come sooner. Clark could already imagine what Bruce's notes for it will be. '1. I never thought a penis could bring me such little joy.'

He told Bruce it was nerves as he lay there next to him. It was a partial truth, it's just the thing he was nervous about was what would occur on his arrival home, and had nothing to do with his imminent departure. 

  
  


But of course, Bruce didn't need to know that. 

___

  
  


Today was the day.

  
That was the single thought that continuously ran through Clark’s head on the final stretch of their journey home. Today was the day. They were heading back to Earth, and when he got there, he’d finally see Bruce after a week apart.

  
They weren’t usually ones for sappy reunions. If the length of time dragged on beyond a single week they might get more romantic, with attempts of some form of intimate liaison, but as it stood, their brief stretches apart led to one thing and one thing only.

Sex.

So much sex in fact, that Clark had began to make a point of clearing his schedule upon his return, as he wasn’t going to leave Bruce for anything short of a cataclysmic disaster and even then it was 50/50 odds for whether he actually would or not. 

It was part of what fueled his plan in the first place; this inevitability in their fucking. Bruce seldom masturbated if Clark wasn’t around to potentially eavesdrop and whilst in a cramped Javelin with his coworkers, Clark wasn’t about to give into carnal pleasure either. That would be what would lead to their glorious coupling upon reuniting, and Clark was banking on Bruce not having the slightest inclination that this was any different than usual. 

Sure enough, when he made his way into the Batcave, Bruce was already up from the computer and marching over to him. “About time.” He ground out as he wrapped his arms around Clark, his lips already going for his jaw.

That was another part of the plan, Clark thought with a smile as Bruce rutted against him. He’d purposefully stayed a while longer in HQ than strictly necessary, helping Hal with his notes and making sure the Javelin was in full working order after its round trip across the galaxy; knowing that Bruce would be waiting anxiously for his return the entire time. 

They eventually made their way to the bedroom, though it was flagrantly obvious along the way that Bruce would be happy with any surface at this point. Therefore, it was left to Clark to half carry half drag Bruce up the stairs and once in their room Bruce was already a panting mess, pawing at Clark’s shirt and ripping it off of him when he couldn't figure out the buttons.

Clark laughed and pushed Bruce onto the bed roughly, eliciting the moan he was after. “Well, aren't you a horny bitch?”

Bruce let out a strained gasp and his hips jumped up at the words. _Oh, this was more than perfect_ , Clark thought and before Bruce lost all ability to think, he crawled on top of him, kissing across his face as he spoke. “You want me to fuck you nice and hard, Bruce?”

  
  
“ _Yes_.” Bruce nodded frantically. “Yes, please, Clark-”

  
  
“I will, but I wanna do it a little differently tonight.” Clark brought a hand to cup Bruce's erection. “Can I?”

  
  
“Fuck-” Bruce rutted into his palm. “Yes, yes- _please_.” 

“Okay.” Clark pulled back and started taking off his clothes, and without another word said, Bruce did the same. Once he was naked, Clark grabbed his rucksack off the floor, and pulled out an unassuming blindfold. “Ready?” Clark said, fighting back a smile.

Bruce only nodded and let out a shaky breath as Clark slid on the blindfold. Once he was sure Bruce couldn’t see anything, he whispered in his ear. “I'm going to tie you up.”

  
  
Bruce didn't speak, only bit his lip and jerked his head back and forth in what Clark assumed was a nodding motion. He gently guided Bruce to the middle of the bed, and as Clark went back to his bag, Bruce spread himself out like a starfish across the mattress, his chest rising and falling rapidly, as his erection stuck prominently upwards.

Clark pulled out the ‘handcuffs’ and as carefully as he could manage, attached them to Bruce. He had to be quick though, as the longer he took, the more time Bruce had to realise what he was feeling on his skin were not in fact normal handcuffs.

He’d managed to get to his right foot before Clark saw Bruce's face crinkle in confusion. His mouth fell open. “Clark?” He asked quietly

Clark didn't respond, and simply moved onto his other foot and did the same as he had done to the other. As soon as he locked it into place, he saw Bruce test them, saw him test them again when they didn't budge, his frown grew. “ _Clark_.”

Clark finally approached, sitting by Bruce's head and peeling off the blindfold. “Yes, hon?”

  
  
“What are these?” Bruce tested them again for good measure, but without the blindfold he was able to see exactly what Clark had done for himself. “What-”

  
  
Realisation dawned on Bruce, and slowly his frown grew. 

Clark hadn’t used actual handcuffs. No, he’d found pieces of reinforced steel from the hanger at HQ and after wrapping them in a little bit of fabric for comfort, he’d twisted them around Bruce's wrists and ankles, just so the known escape artist couldn't ruin his carefully laid out plans.

Bruce's eyes narrowed. “What are you doing?”

  
  
“Punishing you, silly.” Clark grinned, unable to keep his jubilation back any longer. Weeks of planning and finally it was paying off. It was beautiful. “For when you ball balled me for an entire week. This Bruce, is what I like to call ‘ _karma_ ’.”  
  


“What?” He asked, his confusion evident. “You said you were over that.”

“I _lied_.” Clark whispered into Bruce’s face. 

Bruce rolled his eyes as he fell back onto the bed. “Fine, asshole. You got me, ha ha.”

  
  
Clark made a face. “Oh, but _this_ isn’t your punishment.” He shook his head. “It’s part of it, sure, but I still need to go get the rest.” 

He slid off the bed and had to take a breath to school himself, this was almost _too_ much for him but he knew he had to keep his cool. Bruce had a way of getting under his skin, and if he sensed even a hint of weakness, Clark was well aware he would exploit it to its fullest potential. He opened up his bag, and after retrieving some of its contents, approached Bruce once more.

He sat down, and Bruce tried to crane his neck and see what Clark had in his lap. Clark however did him the favour of holding it up to his face. “These are love eggs, Bruce.”

  
  
“I know what they are.” Bruce said with a roll of the eyes. “Idiot.”

  
  
Clark returned it. “I know you know, asshole. I was being theatrical.” He cleared his throat and continued. “Anyway, these are love eggs and do you know what i'm going to do with this one?” He held up the small blue one and flaunted it in front of Bruce's bored stare.

“Gee, let me guess, stick it up my ass?” Bruce said, with forced enthusiasm, before slumping back into the bed with a huff. “Very original.”

Clark didn't let his smile faulter, Bruce was testing his armour and if he found a chink in it, that would be it. Instead Clark laughed. “Very good guess, Bruce! It is indeed.” He reached over Bruce, his smile growing as his hand brushed against Bruce’s near purple erection. He gently touched him as he spread his legs apart and after sticking the egg in his mouth to lubricate it, he slid it inside. 

Bruce let out a breath, but otherwise looked unphased as Clark came back up to his face. “Now-” Clark reached for the pink one. “What about this one?”

  
  
“Up my ass as well?” Bruce murmured, raising a brow at him. His bravado was lessening, at least.

  
“No.” Clark said, revealing the portion of the egg that had been hiding in his palm as he spoke. He let it go and showed the long cord it was attached to. “This one is going right-” He stood up on the bed, and stuck the small hook he had also palmed into the ceiling. He then tied the end of the cord to it and stepped back, letting the egg go. It fell down towards the bed before being stopped by the cord, and ended up dangling mere millimeters above Bruce's cock. “There.” Clark finished with a smile. He'd done the measurements in his head, and was happy to see he didn't gotten them wrong.

Clark could see the cogs in Bruce's head turning, and despite everything he looked mildly impressed. Clark was aware Bruce would never actually _say_ anything to that effect, but the bare hint of it on his face was enough for Clark and he hopped from the bed with a flourish. “Tada.”

  
  
“Wow.” Bruce said nodding. “Two love eggs. What a wonderful punishment, Clark. You out did yourself.”

  
“Again, Bruce, _this_ isn’t the punishment. Only more prep.” Clark went to his bag and pulled out the final items: two small remotes, a ball gag, and cord of rope, tape, and two even smaller eggs.

The first thing he did was tie one end of the rope to the bed. He then lay it across Bruce’s torso and tied it down firmly on the other side. Bruce was stuck flat against the bed, and when he tried to move his hips this time, the rope held him down.

Clark stepped back to admire his work and made a point of showing the controllers to Bruce as he did. “Okay.” Bruce muttered. “I see.”

  
“Do you though?” Clark said, his lips quirking. “I went to a lot of trouble to make this happen, Bruce. And honestly I don't think you’re prepared for it. In fact, I'm so sure that you won’t be able to handle it that I'm giving you an out. Just say the word, and I'll untie you.” 

Bruce actually scoffed. “I think I can handle your _punishment_ , Clark.”

  
  
Clark gave a gentle laugh as he lent over and kissed Bruce's forehead. “Oh, Bruce.” He stood back up and reached for the tape. “You won’t, but I like your optimism.” 

He cut two long pieces from the roll of tape. After he had positioned one egg over Bruce’s nipple, he reached for the tape and stuck it over the egg. The smaller eggs didn't have remotes for them sadly, but as Clark pressed the end of it, it came to life, vibrating in short bursts and Bruce’s jaw clenched as a result. Clark quickly did the other and sat back. “Still think you can handle it?”

  
  
“I’m sure.” Bruce said, trying his best to force a growl into it.

Clark only nodded and reached for the last of his items. With the ball gag now in place, Bruce was left to express himself using little more than his eyes. Clark understood the look being sent his way as one of determination and mild annoyance and with that he reached for the remotes and turned them on

  
Despite only having them on their lowest setting. Bruce writhed as they started, his hips going up to try and meet the egg above him, it skidded past his tip, and without that contact he tried to bare down on the one in his ass instead, meeting as unsatisfactory of a response. His eyes went to Clark, and that determination was still there, though Clark didn't think it would last for much longer. 

“Well.” He cleared his throat. “I’m off then.” Clark said as he got up.

Bruce made a noise of what Clark assumed was protest. “Oh yeah, was that not clear? You're gonna lay up here and think about what you’ve done, and I'm gonna go downstairs and watch the game.” Clark thought for a moment. “Yup, that's it. That’s the punishment.” He kissed Bruce on his damp forehead. “I’ll come check on you in-” He looked over at the bedside clock and pursed his lips. “Well, the game will probably be about three hours long, so some time after that. I may get some pizza though, so-” Clark shrugged. “Let’s just say four hours.”

  
  
Another noise, this one more desperate and Clark turned back around with a sigh. “Baby, I can’t understand you with the gag on, but if you’re worried about anyone spoiling our fun don't worry, Tim and Damian are away and Alfred’s out walking Ace. A nice _long_ walk. You can yell to your heart's content and no one will hear it.” Clark grinned. “Isn’t that great?”

  
Bruce thrashed vigorously, and the yells got louder if that were possible. Clark wondered if the bed would take it. It already had taken quite a pounding in recent months, and Clark's jury ringing to keep it together could only take so much. 

Oh well, if Bruce broke the bed that was on him. Without another word Clark stepped from the room and made his way downstairs. He heard Bruce try and scream past the gag but it didn't last long, perhaps thirty minutes at best and at that point Clark already had a bowl of chips and was happily munching away as he watched TV.

After an hour, he glanced up at Bruce through the floors and walls and found him lying stock still across the bedding.

Clark turned his attention back to the game, not worried in the slightest. After all, there was still plenty of time for that to change. 

  
  


___

  
  
  


A bowl of chips, a large pizza and a bottle of soda later, Clark debated going and checking in on Bruce. 

  
He looked at the clock on the wall. Just over four hours, and this time, when Clark looked up to him, Bruce writhed on the sheets. Eventually something close to pity took over and Clark stood up and wiped the crumbs off himself. He heaved a sigh, somewhat sad that his alone time in the Manor was at an end. It wasn’t everyday, with the boys and Alfred present, that he could eat junk food, naked in the living room.

  
There was always another time, he supposed. When the boys moved out and they got Alfred a nice little cottage somewhere. So he let out a sigh as he made his way back upstairs to the bedroom.

When he opened the door, he had expected Bruce to be angry, but the rage hurled his way as he approached was entirely beyond its normal levels.

  
Clark however didn't care, as he was too busy grinning at the more noticeable of Bruce’s features. Namely, his weeping cock.

  
  
He approached the bed and ignored the way Bruce hands tried in vain to claw at him. He reached for the pink egg still hanging in place above the bed and saw the precum smeared across the bottom of it. He also saw the red welts across Bruce’s midsections from the rope digging in as he tried to thrust against it. “Did you have fun?”

  
  
More garbled screaming, and Clark sat down on the bed, trying his best to look sympathetic. “Aww, Bruce. Was it too much for you?”

  
  
The screaming stopped, and fiery eyes narrowed at him. Clark smiled. “No, I figured as much.” His voice dipped low. “Why, I bet you could handle another _four_ hours.”

The anger slowly evaporated, and tears sprung from Bruce’s eyes instead. They went down the trails already left by some made in the previous hours and Clark lent over and kissed them away. “Aww, baby. Don't worry, I'm not gonna leave you again. I promise.” Clark pulled back, and the look of relief on Bruce's face made his own dick pulse. He took a breath. “I'm gonna take the gag off now, but if you start yellin’, it goes back on and I go back downstairs till you've cooled off. Understand?”

Bruce nodded, and Clark reached for the gag and unclipped it. He pulled it free, and Bruce gave a few deep breaths as he licked his lips. “Need some water?” Clark asked.

  
  
Bruce shook his head, and without the gag obstructing his face anymore, he gave Clark his best sultry look and damnit if it didn't have its intended effect, Clark almost caved but stopped himself. “You look so good like this, Bruce.” Clark whispered as he lay down beside him, bringing his hand to the rope. He took it in his hands and pulled it until it snapped. Bruce almost immediately thrust up into the air, his cock barely brushing against the egg as he did. A strained moan erupted out of him and Clark gave a small chuckle. “You want me to turn them up for you, hon?” 

  
“ _Yes_ .” Bruce hissed, his voice raw and dry. “Please, Clark, please-”

  
  
Clark reached for the remotes and slowly slid them both up a notch. Bruce’s moan at the sensation was everything Clark could have hoped for. He watched as Bruce tried to close his thighs and bare down on the egg in his ass, but to no avail. He also had difficulty trying to meet the egg dangling above. Even though there was no longer a rope keeping him down, the higher vibration meant it no longer dangled idly, and jumped just out of Bruce’s cocks reach as he moved to try and meet it.

He let out a frustrated huff as he turned to Clark, his eyes glistening. “Clark, please touch me. _Please_ .”

  
  
“But Bruce, why would I do that when you look so good like this?” Clark pulled back, a serious look on his face as he nodded. “No, I bet you could come from this alone, if you wanted to.”

  
  
Bruce tried just that, thrusting up against the egg once more but when it moved away he fell back and gave another sob. “I can’t, I can’t do it. Please Clark, please, I can’t take it anymore. I need to come, I need it-”

  
“You don't really _need_ it though, do you?” Clark said with a smile. “I went a whole week getting blue balled by you, in fact, I should go grab some ice and cool you down.”

“ _No_ .” Bruce yelled. “No, Clark, I don't want- I want, please, no-” He writhed again. “ _Please_.” 

“So you don't want the ice, _and_ you don't want to get off from the egg?” Clark pressed his lips together, feigning confusion. “Golly Bruce, I don't see how else to solve this conundrum, then.”

  
  
“Fuck me.” Bruce spat out, eyes wide. “Fuck me, _now_. Clark. Please.” 

“I don't know Bruce, have you really learned your lesson? How can I be sure you won’t go back to your tomfoolery if I do decide to _fuck_ you.” 

“I won't. I promise I won’t. Clark I promise. Please.” Bruce practically screamed, and the bed jumped when Clark let his hand rest across the sweaty patch of skin just above Bruce’s pubic hair.

  
“Okay. I’ll fuck you.” At this Bruce tried to move towards him, and the bed gave another lurch. Clark laughed. “You gotta be more patient, hon. Not everyday I get you like this.”

  
  
“Clark, I will do whatever you want, but you need to fuck me now. _Right this fucking second_ .”

  
  
“Or?” Clark asked idly, trailing his index finger along Bruce’s shaft.

  
  
“Or-” but Bruce choked on the words. “I- No, _fuck_ , Clark!”

  
  
“That wasn’t a sentence, Bruce.” Clark said as he shook his head. “Okay, okay. Enough teasing. Let’s get these off-” Clark got up onto his knees, and despite no longer touching him Bruce sobbed with joy as Clark went to his wrists. The prospect of freedom trumping everything else, but Clark wasn’t done yet. “I’ll untie you, Bruce, but you don't move until I get all of these off, okay? I don't want you touching yourself until I say so.”

Bruce's mouth fell open, and a flicker of anger entered his eyes before being smothered. “Yes, I promise I won't touch myself.”

“Good.” Clark grabbed the piece of metal in his hands and ripped it open with ease. Bruce’s sweaty wrist fell to the bed and Clark got up and moved to the next one.

Once both of his wrists were free, Clark watched as Bruce's hands found the bed sheet beneath him and gripped it with all his might. His eyes were closed and he breathed in deep as Clark stood there, and despite doing his best to not move, his hips wiggled from side to side as the seconds ticked by. 

When he undid the fastenings on his ankles, Bruce ever so slightly brought his legs in closer together and Clark could see the way his ass cheeks clenched together as he lay there. His lip was back between his teeth, slowly becoming hamburger meat if the way he was gnawing on it was anything to go by.

Clark went back up to Bruce and sat beside him. “Open your eyes.” 

Bruce did as he was told and his incessant wriggling grew more pronounced. “Please, Clark.” He whispered, and he arched his chest up. “Please.” 

“Okay.” Clark muttered. “Get onto your knees, hon. Spread yourself for me.” 

  
Bruce scrambled on the bed, quickly turning himself and getting on his knees, his face pressed into the mattress, as he brought his hands up to his cheeks and spread them apart. Clark got up and retrieved the lube in the bedside cabinet. “I bet you were thinking about all kinds of things whilst you were up here.” He set the lube down beside him, and reached for the cord dangling from Bruce's ass. He pulled it until the egg became stuck halfway inside of his hole. He sat back down on the bed. “What were you thinking about?”

  
  
Bruce, clenched and the egg went back in. He bore down onto the bed, but at the angle he was at, and with his hands predisposed, his cock hung untouched in the air. He sobbed. “You. I was thinking of you. Please, Clark. You win. I need you. _Please_ .”

  
  
“I win?” Clark said with a smile. “Oh baby, that means the world to hear you say that, but I don't really care about winning. Not like you.” He pulled the egg halfway out again, and this time barely a second went by before it was swallowed once again by Bruce. “This was your punishment, remember? So did you learn your lesson?”

  
  
“I did.'' Bruce nodded, his sweat matted hair obscuring his face though Clark could still see the tears there. “I learnt my lesson.”

  
  
“Good.” Clark pulled the egg out, but this time let it fall to the bed. He then reached for the pink egg still dangling from the ceiling and pulled it down, throwing it aside. He then covered his finger with lube and brought it to Bruce’s hole. “You ready?”

  
  
Bruce didn't even say words, releasing a low string of gibberish that only made sense to him, Clark was sure. It still sounded somewhat like a yes, so Clark stuck his finger in.

  
  
Bruce was tight around him, and maybe, if he’d had a little more self control, he might have prepared him a little more ‘thoroughly’ not just to extend the wonderful performance Bruce was providing him but to make sure Bruce really got the message that this was meant to be his punishment.

Then again, Bruce never objected before to a little pain, and he wasn’t the only one addled with lust here. Clark might have been doing a good job of keeping himself under control, but in reality he was just as desperate for this as Bruce. 

He got onto his knees and ran the tip of his cock around Bruce’s hole, dipping it in ever so slightly. “You want me to fuck you, Bruce?”

Bruce buried his face into the mattress, and screamed. “ _Yes._ ”

Clark bit his lip as he felt Bruce fidget against him. The vague notion of holding out a little while longer left him, and rather than taking the slow and methodical Clark rammed into Bruce in one deep thrust. 

A strangled yelp was the only noise Bruce made and Clark reached underneath him as he thrust, intent on helping Bruce along. Only to find an excessive amount of wetness on the mattress underneath. He couldn’t believe it, and yet when Clark touched the wet spot and brought it to his lips, the taste could have only been one thing. “Wait, did you-” Clark laughed. “Did you really just come from _that_ , Bruce?” Despite his tone, he really was impressed. Bruce must have been on a razor's edge for longer than he realised. 

  
Bruce however was too dazed to pay much mind to Clark, his mouth had fallen open and his eyes were barely focusing on anything around him. “I’m sorry.” He whispered.

  
“I should think so.” Clark laughed, hunching over Bruce and grabbing him by the hips. “‘Cause i'm gonna keep fucking you till i’ve had my fill, do you understand?” Already, Clark continued with his thrusting, and Bruce’s sharp gasp at the feeling did everything to keep him going.

  
  
“I-” Bruce let out. “Yes. _Yes_.”

“You're gonna be so raw, Bruce. You’re not gonna be able to sit down for a week.” Clark could feel himself grow close, and what little brain power he had left was solely focused on the task at hand. Sentences were lessening, and eventually, all that was leaving Clark were quiet cusses as he pressed his face against Bruce's back.

By the time he came, he felt Bruce clench tightly around him, and into his hand he felt Bruce's cock grow slick, he pumped his hand along his shaft, easing him through and once Bruce gave a final shudder, he let go. 

Bruce didn't so much as fall against the bed, as slowly sink into it, his body acting much like a jellyfish’s does when found on the damp sand. Clark prodded him on his ass cheek, before crawling beside him and settling down. “Bruce, want me to take off the eggs?”

  
  
Bruce didn't speak, so Clark just grabbed him by the shoulder and rolled him onto his back. His eyes were closed and his breathing was shallow, but even. Clark debated leaving him be, but quickly decided against that. He ripped the tape off of Bruce’s chest in two quick bursts and Bruce jolted up with a yelp. “ _Fuck_ !”

  
  
“Oh, sorry. Were you sleeping?”

“Fuck you.” Bruce said, wiping his face. He looked down at the red stripes across his nipples, before falling back against the bed. “I’m exhausted.”

  
  
“Really?” Clark made a face. “After _that_ ?”

  
  
Bruce whipped his head towards him, his eyes narrowing to slits. “Four hours, Clark. I was up here for _four_ hours.”

  
  
“Eh, four hours in the grand scheme of things isn’t _that_ bad.” 

  
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Bruce said, his voice dipping low.

  
“Ah ah ah.” Clark said, his eyebrows raised. “No elaborate revenge plot. After all, this was just payback for what _you_ did in the first place. You fight back, we’re just gonna end up in an endless cycle of this shit. You promised no tomfoolery, and revenge would definitely count as tomfoolery.”

  
Bruce held his stare.

“Bruce, I mean it.”

  
“What.” Bruce bristled. “I didn’t _say_ anything.” 

“You don’t need to, you happen to broadcast ‘i’m going to fuck you over big time’ vibes very effectively without the use of words.”

  
  
“You said it, not me.” Bruce said with a small shrug.

Clark sent him a look. “Let me rephrase; if you do try to mess with me again, Bruce. I will repeat what I did here today, in the Fortress of Solitude and leave you for _twenty_ four hours. Got it?” 

  
There was no dismissal, but there was no agreement either. Clark however wasn’t going to force it. Bruce hated losing and this whole situation was just one great big game that he was left to watch from the sidelines, without so much as a participation trophy for a reward. Eventually he settled down next to Clark, curling in close, and Clark would have thought the sentiment sweet if he wasn’t keenly aware of why Bruce was going it. “So, I can’t do anything? Not even a little bit of ‘tomfoolery’?” He pouted.

  
“No.”

  
  
“Oh, come on.'' Bruce said, bringing his hand to Clark’s chest and resting it there. He gave a breathy laugh that went straight to Clark’s cock. “Not even a teensty weensey little bit of it?”

  
  
Clark stretched his body and not so subtly removed Bruce's hand. “Hum, let me think. _No_.”

“Clark, please.”

  
  
“Nope.”

  
  
Eventually Bruce stopped pestering him, though it was with a quiet. “Fine, I’ll just murder you in your sleep.” He muttered as he turned away from Clark and burrowed his face into the pillow

“You do that, Bruce.” Clark said, bringing his hands behind his head as he looked up at the ceiling with a smile. “You do that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Well, there we have it. I do have something else written for this verse that I may post soon, but we shall have to see! Thank you for reading, and I hope y'all enjoyed! :D


End file.
